Disclaimer: I don't claim to own 24 or any of it's characters.

Chloe's POV

This place is crazy.

I figured this would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. The week before I started working here at CTU, I went out and bought a whole new wardrobe. I needed more conservative clothes – I had to look professional. I even got a haircut. Me, a haircut! I've been growing out my beautiful long blonde hair since I was a teenager, and I got it cut for a job.

A lousy job.

Naturally, I figured my colleagues would be very professional people. I had to, somehow, bring myself to their level. But no, that's not how it really is around here. I'm more professional than any of these people. I'm ten times more qualified than them, too. Everyone working here is nuts.

Take Chase, for example. He and I have been friends for quite some time. A few weeks ago, he told me that he and Kim were dating.

"Are you nuts?"

There are so many things wrong with that. First of all, if Jack ever found out, I'm sure he'd kill Chase. Probably with his bare hands. Plus, this doesn't seem like the kind of job where you can date your co-worker. This isn't some crappy fast food place where you can sneak away to the bathroom for a quickie. I mean, the CTU bathrooms are probably rigged with cameras and tiny microphones.

Like I'd sneak a spy into CTU and brief them in the bathroom.

I wouldn't. I'm more professional than that. But I'm not so sure about Gael; he's creepy. Whenever I'm around him, everything's very shadowy and I hear Pink Floyd music.

Maybe this job isn't right for me. Maybe I'm meant to be an artist, or a nurse, or a judge.

No, I don't think I'd make a very good judge. I'm definitely not objective enough. Frankly, when you're with me, it's my way or the highway. Literally.

One of my ex-boyfriends broke up with me on a car trip. What a moron, seriously – he obviously didn't consider how awkward it would be the remainder of the drive home.

But anyway, I threw him and his shit out of my car somewhere in Georgia off I-95.

That's when I realized I needed to be more independent. I stopped worrying about my love life and what other people think of me and I got a job with CTU. That's pretty damn independent, if you ask me.

I work for a guy named Tony. He makes everyone call him 'Director Almeida', though. I think it's pretty weird. When I first met him – hello there! He's very handsome. Funny, the next person I met was his wife and co-worker, Michelle Dessler.

She's a weird one. I respect her, she's very efficient, but still – she seems a little off. When she's not at her workstation (That's another thing around here. It's never a computer; it's a workstation.), she stands around with her arms folded and a pissy look on her face. She sure does love that computer – workstation – of hers.

I wouldn't be surprised if she's mastered Minesweeper by now.

Really. It's not every day around here that we're trying to seize a deadly virus from two nutty Mexican drug lords. Most days, we're just a handful of unprofessional people playing Minesweeper at our workstations.

Except me, of course.